Thursday, March 17, 2011

Happy Birthday, Winston!

3 years, 10 months, and 17 days ago, my life changed. I was offered a full time job at Winthrop raising me above the poverty line and officially making me inelligible to receive food stamps for the first time since graduating college. I didn't want a nicer apartment, more nights out, or new clothes - I wanted a puppy. All througout my childhood, I had dogs that were great, but never once did I have a puppy. We always got the show dog that was no longer show quality or the recycled bulldog. So when I ventured on to the Charlotte Observer and saw six of the cutest frenchie/boston terrier mixes - I knew it was time. Forget the fact that I couldn't eat or pay utilities for the next month. I drove down to Columbia, SC to look at the little pups and waited in a pet store parking lot for the "breeder" to call me back. I thought about turning around numerous times. What would I do when I wanted to go out with my friends? Who would watch him when I wanted to go to Charleston for the weekend? Would I betray Gus by loving another dog? Right as I was about to pull out of the parking lot and head home, she called me. I pulled into the trailer park and had a million thoughts running through my head (not all of them were PC) but I stepped inside. I knew once I crossed that threshold, I was going to be walking out with a puppy - I am, afterall, my mothers daughter.


I knew I wanted a little boy and four of the six were girls so she handed me the one boy who's ears had stood up already. I played with him for a little bit but we really didn't connect. I put him down and thought about maybe taking a different one. But the minute I placed the little guy back with his brothers and sisters, he batted them around with his paws and I realized he wasn't so shy afterall, he just needed some time to warm up to me. So I picked up "Winston" and announced that he was the one. With a cardboard box and an empty wallet, I drove back to Rock Hill.

(winston's first day home)

When I came home to my roommates, they weren't as thrilled as I was. "Hello Lauren, did you forget we aren't supposed to have dogs!!!" I walked upstairs with my head down and my puppy in the crook of my arm. Did I make a huge mistake? That night I cried. I cried for Gus. I cried for myself. And I cried for Winston. 3 years, 10 months, and 17 days later, I look back on that day and realize I made one of the greatest decisions of my life. Winston has been there through breakups, road trips, new jobs, new apartments, and new beginnings. He is my best friend and the only one I can do my creepy dances in front of without judgement.


I know you can't read this, Winston, but Happy 4th Birthday! You are officially an old fart!

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